Recipes For A Runway Clacker
by christina m solomon
Summary: For a Runway Clacker who actually eats.
1. Chapter 1

Recipe of the Smart, Fat Girl.

_1 Cup of Spite_

_A Dash of Iciness_

_A Dollop of Muddy Vengeance_

_A Pinch of Zest_

_2 Spoonfuls of Cool Purpose_

_1 lb Hurt_

_3 Tablespoons of Disappointment_

_1/2 lb Sickness_

_1 Zest of Objectivity_

_And 3/4 lb Emptiness_

She stared after her with brittle stillness within her office chair. Leather cool against her back and a heated pounding within the center of her eyes from a late night trying to placate her husband and speak soothingly to her two disappointed little girls, on a cell phone that at some point had lost the pathetic signal within the eye of the storm that had been nothing but a mere drizzle to the sounds of Caroline gently crying and Cassidy trying not too. Stephen trying to make the situation all about him.

_Idiot girl._

Disappointment was not something she allowed in her professional life. She built her empire furiously, destroyed those who did not satisfy and moved on.

The smart fat girl would not come back.

Of that, she was sure.

* * *

Adapted Recipe for the Smart, Fat Girl.

_1 Cup of Misery._  
_1 Package of Laceration._  
_2 Teaspoons of Fever._  
_2 Cups of Lukewarm Affection from a Disinterested Boyfriend._  
_¼ pound of Irritation._  
_2 Tablespoons of Salt on an Open Wound._  
_1 Teaspoon of Pure Hatred._  
_1¼ Teaspoons of Malaise._  
_2 Cups of a Cut Heart._  
_2 Extra Large Chocolate Ice Cream Scoops._  
_1¼ Teaspoon of Bitterness_  
_! Sliced Heart._

She finished off the bowl of ice cream as she sat in the quiet of her dank apartment. Nate was snoring in sexually satiated sleep. It was the first time she had allowed herself to acknowledged what had happened that day. From smart, fat girl to clad in head to toe Chanel. Jealousy and envy in the eyes of those who despised her. Cutting words and Nigels bridge on a way to understanding.

_Smart, fat girl._

So she sat in rebellion of those words wearing the clothes Miranda had built her empire on, eating double chocolate, fudge ice cream at one in the morning.

Tomorrow she would try. Sensible, healthy, good for the girl with the literal hole in her heart.

She thought of those cutting blue eyes and beyond the vengeance, she saw the pain. She really did love those two Helion red heads.

Andy sighed and pushed the bowl away. She would shower, wash her hair in the copious products Nigel had given her. And for whatever reason, tomorrow she would try.

* * *

Recipe for A Burgundy Evening Dress and Two Long Legs.

_1 box moist-style Chanel encased legs._  
_One 15-oz. can pure Vivaciousness in Giddy eyes, hope for acceptance._  
_12 cubes Ice cubes pushed down the back of a Prada black lace bra._  
_1 tsp. powdered kindness, beyond expected._

Miranda looked at her while speaking to Ralph, with the gentle hopeful smile on her face. A soft smirk played on her lips, before ignoring the brunette entirely. Apart from looking at the shapely derrier that walked away. It was purely aesthetical. She did not care. Like the models, she cared not that they tortutred their bodies as long as they looked beyond exceptional in the clothing they were draped in. Like liquid silk.

However the confident sway of the buttocks that walked away.

Intriguing.

* * *

Variation of the Burgundy Dress Recipe.

_1 oz of Smugness for the smile of the Devil In Prada._  
_4 oz of Glee and Bounce because she had, won a small battle._  
_1lb of Warmth spreading upwards from her stomach._

A Light spritz of Joy ( Quantity not needed, see what feels right).

She walked away with a brisk nod and a gentle smile on her face, feeling those eyes on her buttocks, Knowing and felt like she looked good for the first time, despite wearing Nigels choices for weeks.

As she sat at her desk, she paused and frowned.

The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up.

Nate had never made her feel this way.

* * *

Recipe For The Delivery of The Book.

_2 1/2 Cups Conciliation_

_3/4 Cup Annoyance_

_Five Tablespoons of Heady Fury_

_2 Shards of Glass_

_30 ml embarrassment_

She had been trying to calm him down when he had looked past her shoulder. Fear began to blow against her spine. As she turned round into two liquid pools of melted chocolate. Compassion, was that pity?

The girl had dared to tread where she dwelled above from the table with the flowers.

She smelt the panic in her midst and as she watched the back of a girl with back muscles quivering visibly.

She knew she had to be destroyed.

* * *

Recipe For Fear of Delivery of the Book or Recipe for Instant and Immediate Death.

_1 1/3 Cups of Dread._

_1/2 Teaspoon of Convulsions whilst sleeping from riding the Nightmare Pony._

_1/3 Cup of Panic._

_2 tablespoons of Electricity._

_2 Pin Pricks to the Brain._

_1/2 Cup of Cold Sweat_

_1 Teaspoon of Pity._

_1 1/2 Cups of Worry for precisely the reason for the worry._

_1/2 teaspoon of Hidden Compassion because showing any compassion towards the Heeled Malificent would result in banishment from the publishing world, more than what was already a certainty._

_1/8 teaspoon ground Fiery Heat._

_1 can (15 oz) of Fright_

_1 can (12 oz) of Terror_

_3/4 Cup Sympathy._

_2 Tablespoons of Kindness._

She laid in bed next to a snoring Nate and began to bite her nail. Those eyes, something in her eyes beyond her mercurial boss. She had been so soft and placating. Apologetic to him. Bending to a man, in a way she never thought possible. And once those eyes had seen her, the doors slammed shut of the vault of the woman beyond the public face.

Those ice filled eyes. That looked at her calmly.

Before a storm.


	2. Chapter 2

Recipe For a Decapitated Head or Recipe For An Impossible Manuscript.

_1 tablespoon of Hallowed Fear._

_1 pinch of a Nervous, Crumbling Stomach._

_1 teaspoon of Blind, white migraine._

_2 Shaky Legs (beaten.)_

_30 grams Side Splitting Pain ( then melted and frozen)_

_300 ml Ingenuity For Using Blond Curls._

_2 Large Cups of Sheer Will._

_Panic for frying_

She watched him sending off the printer with a triumphant ping, as three copies of each of the two thousand, three hundred and seventy three pages. Her stomach was rumbling and she wiped the sweat off her brow, as her legs continued to shake from excessive adrenaline. One of her large, luminous eyes watching the clock on the wall. Thirty three minutes to get the copies, have them covered, reset and bound, run to the town car. Get Roy to drive her to the train station to give the two copies to the girls. Call ahead for Starbucks and delivery of the spare copy to have on file, whilst hoping that Emily had not already hired another girl out of maliciousness.

Why did the clock look like it was running faster?

* * *

Recipe for the Perfect Manuscript Plop.

_30 grams of Surprise (With best quality dark annoyance)._

_2 1/2 Cups of Sheer Will to Remain Dignified in Defeat._

_2 Heaped Teaspoons of Begrudging Respect ( Depending on your own personal tastes, and if you will only admit to using a little)._

_1 teaspoon of White Headiness._

_1 pinch of a Caramel Feeling in the Mouth._

_300 ml Full Feeling that a Phenomenon has occurred._

_2 Large Eyes watching a luminously sassy walk, as a Shapely Body walks away. (Possible extra tablespoon)._

_10 rashers of Streaky Irritation (or approx. 100g / 4oz wafer-thin-cut icy eyes that one would have to deal with still seeing somebody who had seen her vulnerability behind her force at Runway)._

_2 teaspoons of Twinging Giddiness (for seeing the girl with doe eyes still)._

_Words at a new Run through (for frying idiotic cave dwellers who have no idea how to work at a successful magazine)._

_Best-quality Admiration on how the impossible had been accomplished._

As she watched the reflection from her plush leather seat. She willed the slow of her heartbeat from the plop of a manuscript on her desk, the smell of aromatic coffee, and the smiling face that had accomplished the task. She had won today. And how, Miranda did not know. The end result was always the key to her. However on this occasion, when a smug face was sitting but yards away from her, Miranda vowed she would find out.


	3. Chapter 3

Recipe for Helping an Incubus of Viral Plague Or Disappointing a Boyfriend.

_3 3/4 Cups of Crumbled Worry_

_3/4 Cup of Soft Salty Pain_

_4 Cups of Creamed Resentment (at room temperature)_

_2 1/4 Cups of Curdling Excitement (at room temperature)_

_1 Cup of Tenacity_

_1 Cup of Annoyance in Wanting to Perform The Perfect Task._

_1 Cup of Doubt of Body Image in a Chanel Evening Dress (with Underlining Seeds)_

_1 Cup of Fear_

She flipped her cell shut, whilst running an erratic hand through her now becoming unruly hair. She heard Lilly and her concerns reverberating around her head like a steal drum being played by a metal rod. She watched as Nigel held up the beautiful understated Chanel dress. The black lace design was stunning. And all she could think was.

She could not do this. It would not fit her. She would be in a place she did not belong. She did not belong in this world. And everybody would see.

See that she did not have the perfect size two body and the correctly angled face. She would be something she had always detested. False in a den of boot lickers, desperate to get near the Queen. But Nigel would help her. Help her look like she belonged. She had to carry herself with the aura of such otherwise she would be swallowed up by lies and deceit. She briefly thought of poor Nate. But she had to do this for Miranda. It was her job. She had a task to do , and she would carry out her task. Despite all appearances she was beginning to care. And she memorized every face in the three folders with alarming clarity and later on would realize that it was a task that she wanted to do for Miranda. Not Runway.

* * *

Recipe For The Girl Who Handed the Incubus a Tissue.

_Two Cups of A Fake Smile so Brittle that it hurt._

_Three Cups of Contempt for Irv and the bit he had brought with him._

_One cup of annoyance, for Emily dragging the evening down with her face so worn and puffy._

_One Tablespoon of Brightness in the form, of a name that healed the evening somewhat._

She allowed nothing to cross her face, as she inhaled the scent of vanilla, jasmine and thyme. She felt the figure moved back and she carried on as gracefully with John as she did all the other fools. The one pin point of a bright spot. That for some reason had nothing to do with the Gala for Runway.


	4. Chapter 4

Recipe For Being Serious About a Future.

_Four Cups of Dread_

_Three Teaspoons of Bliss ( For being chosen, or for reasons unknown)_

_Five Cubes of Claustrophobia_

_Seven Cups of Turmoil_

_Three Cups of Motivation_

_Eight Tablespoons Drama_

_400 ml of Full Fat Excitement_

_50 Grams of Hysteria_

_Twenty Grams of Trepidation ( room temperature as the situation could go either way)_

She walked along the streets thinking about everything that had brought her to this point. This moment in her life where it came down to one decision that would change lives and with it come the potential for a great deal of hurt feelings that she would never in her whole life want to cause. She walked down the darkly lit street approaching her apartment shaking her head, not wanting to go down the route in her head, that told her that Emily did not matter because if the situations were reversed Emily would have no qualms with doing the same thing.

Miranda could destroy everything she had already fought so hard for.

As she looked down at the smiling happy pictures of herself thirty minutes later in the dankly lit apartment, she smiled but knew she was not that person anymore. Runway was changing her and as alarmed as she found it, as well as perplexing she found that she did not mind as much as she should. Once Nate walked back to bed she realised that Miranda had said she needed the best possible team. Which included her. She was the best, and she had worked like a dog for it.

She deserved it.

Despite the heavy lead, sick like feeling in her gut that told her otherwise.

* * *

Recipe For ... Possible Glory or Disaster.

_Three Cups of Contemplation_

_Five Cups of Pure Unadulterated Hatred, for what she already knew she would have to do in Paris._

_2 Tablespoons of Arsenic on the Tongue._

_750ml of Full Feeling for a brunette assistant, possibly accompanying her to Paris. Judging by the look of fear on her face ( Full feeling further unknown)_

Miranda sat in her leather chair, going over the book long before she went to bed. The soft, disparaging footsteps that had left her door, audibly did not leave her until she drifted into a heavily induced slumber.

She had been brutal and at what cost, she cared not. The feeling she relied upon in her bones telling her the answer long before the girl figured it out.

She had calmed her breathing, before facing the inevitable. Irving was the thorn in her side. And now was the final battle. But at what cost? She did not like the heavy feeling in her stomach. And she knew whatever it was, she would find out.

Vomitting however was unexpected.


	5. Chapter 5

Recipe For A Broken Cast.

_Two Cups of Heady Fury_

_Three Teaspoons of Possible Understanding (Only when the mix softens)_

_A Dash of Fever_

_A Pinch of Literally wanting to Pinch when Body Bones are Hurt and Broken, and there Would be No Other Way to Inflict Pain on the Brunette_

_A Whisper of a Voice telling her She Would Have Done the Same Thing_

_Three Cups of Frustration at Having to Eat Carbohydrates to Heal_

_1lb of Screaming Hurt at Not Being Able to Score Couture in Paris_

Emil pushed her head into her hands, and pushed away the tray of food, but knowing she would have to consume it, because of the bloody nerve of the doctor who told her so. She had lashed out on the one person she could, and with very good reason.

How dare she!

How dare she be the one to take her place!

Snivelling, pathetic, fat dork who had stolen what was rightfully hers!

Emily tried to force herself to take some deep breaths, so her blood pressure did not alarm the idiots at the front desk who were monitoring her condition.

Frustration gnawed at her late at night when sleep would not come. When she knew what she would have done if she had been placed in the same position.

Miranda only ever wanted the best. And for whatever reason, for Paris, she was not it. She curled up as best as she could and did something she could not remember doing since a young child. She bit on her thumb until when sleep overtook her, she was found sucking on it. Some day she would tell herself that it was only because she would rather suck on her thumb and obtain no calories than eat the garbage on the food hospital food tray.

* * *

Recipe For Judgement From Someone Who is Supposed to be a Friend or Recipe For Taking a Break, Or Recipe For The Calls That Are Always Taken.

_A Handful of Sickness_

_A Splash of Misery_

_A Cup of Laceration_

_Three Cups of Torture_

_2lb of Agony_

She stood still watching him walk away, whilst the incessant shrill beeping violated her ear canal. She watched the back of some who, not that long ago had been her best friend. Lilly had jumped to all the conclusions that Andy would never have jumped to about her. They didn't understand.

She wiped a few sedentary tears away as she answered her cell, her voice cracking audibly as she did so.

* * *

Recipe For Crackling Curiosity.

_Three Tablespoons of Flashing Annoyance as she was made to wait for the infernal answering of a simple telephone call._

_One Cup of Icy indifference as she heard Stephen thunder up the stairs to his room, after another argument._

_Four Splashes of Cold Water Freezing her Veins (Liberally sprinkled with Surprise when the crack over the phone was nothing to do with the reception from the brunette assistant, but the brunette herself)_

Miranda scratched behind the ears of her St Bernard Patricia, who sat eagle eyed listening to Stephen upstairs occasionally letting out a small growl at the noise he was making.

She pushed herself back into her favored leather chair and contemplated briefly her reaction over hearing the voice that answered the cell phone call be something other than happy and eager to please.


	6. Chapter 6

Recipe For Moving At a Glacial Pace.

_For The Mix;_

_4 Cups of Clouded Worry_

_2 1/2 Cups of Eviscerated Anger_

_1 Cups of Light Brown Warm Eyes, Belying Soft Caring_

_1/2 Cup of Best-Quality Attempt at professionalism_

_2 teaspoons of Hurt_

_1 teaspoon of betrayal_

_½ teaspoon Salty Tears in the privacy of her room before dinner with Christian_

_3 large Cracks in Her Heart_

_142 ml sour taste of the mouth, at what Stephen had done to Miranda in her most important week of the year_

_1 tablespoon vanilla sweetness extract in her words, although she knew would be detested and thrown back into her face_

_1 3/4 Cups of salted seething for her, sending her away with iciness she should have of course expected from the Ice Queen herself (melted and then cooled)_

_125 ml Liquid Possessiveness_

_300 ml chilled contempt for needing to have dinner with Christian to thank him for Harry Potter._

_For The Icing;_

_1 3/4 Cups of fierceness (minimum 70% )_

_2 1/2 Cups of salted melancholy (softened)_

_2 3/4 Cups Fragmented, split personality from what she had been, to what she had become(sifted)_

_1 tablespoon of Revenge Extract that she had never felt before (Stephens head in a blender, and puree until extra smooth.)_

Andy looked down at the seating chart for the luncheon, performing and doing her job, like she had been told. Everything bubbling up inside of her, turning repression of every tumultuous feeling she felt for this woman turning into an art form.

That's All.

* * *

Recipe For Bare Feet.

_1 tablespoon of Immediate Embarrassment for the bareness of her feet. Usually clad in nothing short of perfection._

_1 tablespoon of Fleeting Annoyance that she had been caught in this exposed position._

_2 Set of finely sliced eyes of her twin babies when she had to tell them what had happened._

_3 Cups of Fury for the Spineless Coward she would not deign to even name in her head._

_Boiling Temperature of White hot Pain, as she thought of how her girls would react._

_½ teaspoon of Dismissed Appreciation at the empathy but not pity in soft, doe eyes._

_1 litre of hot stock she would like to pour over Stephens head._

_1 Cup of chopped Hope, that seemed to diminish and dwindle out of light each day._

_2 Tablespoons chopped burning as she looked at what the fetching girl was wearing._

Miranda watched as the girl walked away. She had retained her dignity and self assuredly dismissed the girl, with the pathetic notion that she needed to be comforted. The fact that she wanted for the first time in years, warm soft arms to comfort her was absolutely of no consequence to her. She had work to do. That's All.


	7. Chapter 7

Recipe For The Big Girl That Can Take Care Of Herself.

_5 Cups of Hysteria for Being Hung up On_

_1/2 Cup of Foolishness_

_2 Cups of Overriding fear, this amount used before any other ingredients added_

_Ground Madness For Banging on the Hotel Door._

_4 teaspoons of chamomile extract, thinking logically and await for Miranda_

She paced the ornate golden floor, with the gilded designs and sumptuous collections of flowers waiting for the Silver Hair that Andy hoped would be able to fix what was happening. She didn't stop to consider it was not her head that felt like it was about to burst, but her heart.

* * *

Recipe For Long Time Friend and Esteemed Colleague.

_6 large Eyes penetrating her inward with the wish to rip and burn. Andrea, Nigel and herself_

_½ teaspoon of Grief_

_2 1/2 Cups of Weariness_

_2 teaspoons stamping on the wish to call somebody to shoot Irving Ravitz point blank in the head_

_½ teaspoon cream of Loss, with the possible adding of loosing a good friend to the list_

_1 teaspoon extract of promise to make the rat pay and do something for Nigel_

She smiled and clapped gracefully with believable happiness as Jacqueline stood, barely keeping down the bile that erupted in her throat.

* * *

Recipe For Breaking Eggs.

Take brown eyes, split them and focus to see the owners heart being split and beaten in an ice cold steel bowl.

* * *

Recipe For Hoping to be Paid Back.

_16 Cups of Cracked, fall leaves_

_625 ml Muscat wine (beaumes-de-venise) And then to be repeated in his hotel room later that evening._

_125 ml of oozing blood_

_30 pieces of Broken Glass_

_1 Cup of Desperation and Hope ( depending on the mix)_

_2 Cups of betrayal_

_3 Cups of Splitting Pain_

_1 Pod of Hope_

He nodded at her as he clapped softly as Jacqueline stood. He felt himself being split into and all he could hold onto was the brief look he would think of later, when she looked for a split second as she clapped, worse than him.


	8. Chapter 8

Recipe For Seeing What People Want, and What They Need and To Choose For Yourself.

_1 heart (peeled and burnt)_

_2 x 400 grams cans of suffering (drained once the tears are washed away)_

_4 tablespoons of fact_

_6 tablespoons of accuracy_

_3 tablespoons of tears_

_3 teaspoons of Nitty Gritty_

_2 teaspoons ground angst_

_4 tablespoons of wounded._

She stared out of the window as her words washed over her. As she watched the shark like smile align Miranda's face and present herself to the world. Andy knew she could not do this anymore. And it had nothing to do with her job.

* * *

Recipe For Everybody Wanting To Be Us or Recipe For Fear Of What Has Happened To The Assistant.

_Mix one parts pain with two parts fury, folded in with four parts blinding concern. _

_As she watched the figure walk away from her and not deign to answer her call, vow to obliterate mixture and make sure such creation is charred, blackened and burnt._

* * *

Recipe For The Greatest Disappointment.

_Fold in creamy joy, with three parts isolated worry. _

_Fear added liberally as months go by, with misunderstanding and baffled thought process. _

_Attempt to sprinkle happily with a wave across the street from steely eyes, that look like the brunette is something that should be stomped on. __Pour over it with a smiling face, at the perplexing woman, and try to ignore and move on from what is left of her heart._

* * *

Recipe For A Smile At The Before and After Special.

_Watch with a smile, as the beautiful figure walks away. Folded in with the knowledge that she will not quite admit to herself. _

_Yet._


	9. Chapter 9

Six Months Later.

She watched her out of the corner of her eyes, handle the situation like she always did. Luminous, graceful and ever so slightly fake without allowing anybody truly close to within her inner circle. She held court and her followers lapped it up, whilst her enemies remained indignant and ever so slightly perturbed that they were not the center of the attention.

Andy smiled and shook her head, Miranda Priestly was one hell of an act to follow.

_Mental Note; Create New Recipe that Contains absolutely no mention of Miranda her eyes, her luscious legs, or the teasing bare skin that showed off her delectable shoulders._

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and knew just by the feeling behind her that she was being watched. She felt her heart stop and her breathing slow. Her spine tingled, and she could not quite shake the feeling that she was being hunted.

She turned around slowly and watched those eyes take her in, like they had done every morning when she had begun to show an appreciation for the art that designers lay at the publics feet.

She searched for anything within those hollow eyes and saw nothing, but just when she thought she could release the puff of air she was holding onto, she saw a small tilt of the fair leaders head. Or maybe it was a twitch, she could not be sure.

_Recipe Note; Erratum please note all of the recipes contained in this book are all matched for the needs, dwelling deeply within a heart that would rather keep away than move closer and be rejected. An ego of a public figure is somewhat similar to the heart they hold so close to them._

* * *

Eyes found her and felt like her world had dwindled down to those two eyes, that followed her in sleep at night. Pathetic creature she was. She had no qualms about destroying the hearts and dreams of those around her, but she could not bear to be sent away with laughter scorched in her heart for the silly middle aged woman who had dared to admit and fall in love with the impossible.

The biggest disappointment.

The impossible dream that awoke her in the middle of the night with an ache between her legs and a furious beating of a heart that was doomed to crack, should it go on much longer.

But she could not do it.

Those eyes would never in a million years would she ever be good enough for.

Recipe For a Late Evening.

_Four Full Glasses of tequila and brown eyes in her head and heart until dawn._

_Sickness and Aching to carry on and follow._


	10. Chapter 10

Four Months Later.

_Recipe For A North._

_For the meeting_

_2 Cups of Denial_

_125 ml of Hate of Vulnerability_

_Juice of 2 Squeezed Souls that Hurt_

_1 tablespoon of a Tentative Step Forward_

_For Mix_

_15 Cups of an Unnamed Emotion ( Yet)_

_1 tablespoon of Curiosity_

_14 Cups of Yearning_

_¼ teaspoon of Infatuation_

_Pinch of Respect (Please note with the rise of mix, this quantity grows)_

_Grounding Worship From Both Bowls_

_3 tablespoons of Tenderness ( Already proofed and risen, before adding to mix)_

_approx. 125 million Tears_

_1 large Push in the Right Direction_

_5 Cups Ardor_

_3 tablespoons of Fondness ( Use another bowl to mix, before adding to complete mixture)_

_To Serve_

_2 Hearts Combined._

The meeting was not so chance as either expected. A little leprechaun whispering in both of their ears named Nigel assured both of that. Dressed to impress, before comfort and an understanding that nobody else saw. Apart from the pair that stood upon the balcony and spoke softly to each other with the stars shining above them. Until the point came, where there did not need to be anymore words.

Simply a look.

They looked into each others eyes, and found their home.

_We were written in the stars, my love, all that separated us, was time, the time it took to read the map which was placed within our hearts, to find our way back to one another. Following Our North Star Home._


End file.
